I’m trying to rise with the morning light,
to carry my burdens, to fight the good fight.
I’m trying to smile though the skies may weep,
to cradle my hopes when the shadows creep.
I’m trying to focus, to steady my soul,
to gather the fragments and make myself whole.
I’m trying not to falter, not to fall,
to answer the silence, to heed the call.
I’m trying—though perfection’s a fleeting dream,
though rivers of doubt cut across the stream.
I’m trying, though the climb is high,
for all I can do is try.
So let me stumble, let me be,
a heart in motion, endlessly.
No one flawless, none divine,
yet hope still whispers—this hope is mine.